The infamous French air kisses, and the urge to duck and cover….

The bises, the bises, the bises.  The infamous air kisses. They have my heart broke, these bises. I finally worked up the courage to initiate air kisses to all four work colleagues I greeted today, and nobody flinched or anything. So I took that as a sign of great encouragement. I might even try it again. However, upon leaving, I didn’t feel it was appropriate to interrupt one of the guys’ mopping to go kissing him. As for the the two smoking outside the door, they have another think coming if they imagine I’m putting my freshly washed hair anywhere near their filthy cloud of smoke. (One must always take care to keep showering to a bare minimum). But it is a daily source of social anxiety. I’m thinking of keeping a permanently puckered expression, so that I’m ever ready. If people want to kiss me then, they can, nobody can say I refused. If they choose not to, then they will have to slink off uncertainly, unsure whether I was preparing for a lunge or whether that is just my face. Problem, I think you will find, solved.

Otherwise work was lovely tonight -it was very quiet and throughout the evening, I gradually got braver at chatting with my colleagues. They are very nice and friendly in fairness, and full of talk. I don’t follow much of this talk, but I’ll get there. I have devised a new plan to get them to teach me swear words, in return for which I will teach them the directions to the toilet in English. It sounds like a fair system to me anyway. Win win. I’ll let you know how it works out….